Only Hope
by TrinMalfoy
Summary: Draco despairs over a certain redhead...


**DISCLAIMER**: If you didn't read it in my profile... THIS IS ALL J.K. ROWLING'S AND WARNER BROS. AND SCHOLASTIC'S, ETC!! IT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME!! The song is the property of Switchfoot, and its publishers or record companies... yes... but I typed the lyrics so I'm not sure if they're exactly right... but they're close!  
  
**A/N**: I haven't posted in a while, so I decided to post this little songfic J. Hope you like! TOTALLY CLICHÉD THOUGH!! Warning you now... all fluff is completely clichéd, and so this must be... *sigh* BUT I tried to make it so that you would still enjoy... I can't explain, you'll just have to read J. Review and tell me what you think... Oh and for people who've read all the ones before... THEY ARE NOT RELATED! NOT IN ANY WAY! They're all separate entities ^.~. Oh yes and like all the other ones... THE CHARACTERS ARE OOC! It's just cuteness I dream up... as for in character-ness.... umm... I'm working on some other stories that I shall post soon (meaning in like... oh... a couple months) IC.... ^.^;.

Another thing- just a warning, there's a couple OotP spoilers... but they aren't noticeable if you haven't read it.

THANK YOU TO ALL MY WONDERFUL BETAS AUBS & MAUREEN J. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

**Only Hope**

     Draco stood leaning on the ice-cold railing of the balcony of the small room he'd found in Hogwarts. Rain that couldn't yet be called mist drizzled down on him, touching the slightly starchy white Oxford shirt and sliding along his cuff-links like an expert figure skater over ice. His forearms were out and leaning on the railing, hands clasped like the most studious of students. His bright lightning-colored hair was drooping due to the accumulation of infinitesimal drops of water. Steely gray eyes pierced the sprinkling water like an arrow through a target, and a mind full to exploding sat trying to figure out this new... development. He'd never felt this way before.

_There's a song that's inside of my soul_

_It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again_

     Somewhere, in the more sane parts of his head, he knew that it really wasn't anything. Just lust maybe... or just a simple fascination with the lower classes that drove him to think incessantly of her. He knew somewhere that he just scorned her, teased her, and maybe even thought of her but only to use her. Yet somehow, this didn't satisfy him. He knew something was wrong. He was made to be ice, stiff as rock and unbreakable as titanium. He was created that way, yes, created and not born. He was shaped from the moment he was put in his fathers' arms. He was kept in place, an unruly lock of hair by a pin, by the cold Manor. 

     Every single time he caught himself thinking about her he'd simply try to get his mind on something else. He'd think about Quidditch strategies, being Slytherin captain, but then his mind would wander to how good of a Seeker she was during his 5th year. He sighed, trying to get his mind on something else. Like Potions perhaps... yes, that was a good subject. But then his mind floated to how horrible she was at Potions, always late for her next class when he walked in, cleaning up some mess or another she'd made. 

_I'm awake in the infinite cold_

     He had been this way since he was little. The coldness of the Manor had seeped into his very bones and froze him over, until he was as simple and dangerous as ice. No one had ever seen past that before. No one had ever tried. Until she came along. She with her beautiful voice that rang in his head, the flowing tone he could not banish from his mind. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be unreachable, like Avalon to simple mortals. He wasn't supposed to be affected at all.

     He looked up at the yellow-white waning moon, anger rising in his chest. But he knew it wouldn't last. He couldn't keep angry, and it was all because of her. Every time he thought about giving a biting remark or retort, her words slid gracefully and subtly over his mind, silently reproaching, even though he would give anything to hear her speak again. 

_But you sing to me over and over and over again_

     He shook his head, little bits of droplets soaring everywhere, strands of his platinum blond hair prancing all over the place before calming down and resting right where they were before. It was just no use. He could not get her out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. He knew she'd gone and burrowed under her skin through his muscles and lodged herself in his heart. There was just no way around it. His instincts were telling him to forget her, to just get on with his miserable life the way it had been. But he couldn't. His hea- no, he didn't dare say it. He wouldn't; he didn't have one. 

_So I lay my head back down_

_And I lift my hands and pray to be only yours_

     He glanced once more at the sky partially covered by dark gray clouds and also illuminated by the bright stars. The clouds and stars contrasted together beautifully and somehow intertwined in harmony. Draco walked back inside and sat at the table, letting his head drop with a thump onto the hard mahogany of the sparklingly polished top. There was no way to get over it. He knew she now held him captive and he had no idea how to change that or how to hide it.

     He thought of Potter, and he scowled deeply. The Gods knew that she was over Harry, but that didn't stop Draco from being suspicious. It was also another way to fuel the rivalry between the two. He needed something to get his mind off of her...

     But the way that she looked at him, kind and caring, was unlike any look anyone had ever given him. Like she wanted to help him, like she really wanted to try. No one had ever bothered looking past his outer exterior before, only taking him to be a cold, calculating, and superior snob. Which he was, but there was more to him, too. 

_I pray to be only yours_

_I know now, you're my only hope_

    She could save him from his fate; she could help him get out of the hole dug for him from birth. By Voldemort, of course, even though his father had driven him into it in the first place. He couldn't get the image of her in a beautiful white dress, looking like the nymph goddess he knew she was, out of his head. But it was more than that. She would be the one to help him, since no one else was willing to. 

_Sing to me the song of the stars_

_Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again_

     Laughter. It was a thing he'd never truly experienced. Of course, he'd smirked and sneered, but he'd never really laughed. He had heard her laughs, bright and full of the humor that caused them. He'd never emitted anything like to hers. The closest he'd ever come to really laughing was mocking laughter, which wasn't true laughter anyway. He rubbed his temples and sighed; he was thinking too much into it. But he couldn't get her out of his mind and she was driving him insane!

_When it feels like my dreams are so far_

     The only plans he'd ever had were set in stone and would be engraved onto his epitaph by his father. Even though they weren't really his dreams; they were what his father made to be his dreams. His real dreams were to just live and never regret living. That's why he indulged in everything. He never once wanted to regret not doing something or not having anything. Although, it might have just been the fact that he'd been spoiled rotten from the moment he came out of his mother's womb. But his dreams were going to be taken away by a semblance of a man, a snake, who would only use him to gain what he had always wanted: total domination. He would regret living only to serve another. And this seemed to be his destiny, the way his father had made him since birth.

     What did he want? Did anyone even care? If anyone knew the true Draco, they'd realize- all he wanted was to live. Carpe Diem was driven into his mind from daily happenings, in which case he figured it was better to be doing something than just sitting around. It was embedded even deeper once he'd heard the sounds of torture floating to his ears from some unknown chamber in his manor. 

_Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again_

     He needed someone to help him get out. He knew that now. He needed her to help him free himself from his certain doom. He knew she could do it too. She had already shown him so much that he had never realized, from his simple dreams to things about himself. He couldn't lose her. Not ever. There was no way he'd allow it. She'd captured him, ever single bit of him. But he couldn't just announce it to the world now could he? He was helpless; would she even want him? He knew he wouldn't want him if he were her...

     This was getting too much for his head! He felt more confused than ever. He couldn't handle it; it would be a total reversal of his entire childhood. He rested his head on his hands, hair going through his fingertips as he slid his hair back impatiently. Folding his arms he let his head rest there- he was getting a headache thinking all about it.     

_So I lay my head back down_

_And I lift my hands and pray to be only yours_

     He knew he should just give up; either give in to her or his father. It really was simple. But he knew he was lying to himself; it was the most complicated matter he'd ever been faced with. He didn't want her, yet that was what he really wanted. To be with her. He wanted to hit himself, knock some sense into his unyielding mind, but the fact of the matter was that he really did want her. And he wanted to love her; he didn't just want to use her, abuse her, or take her. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her, and for the rest of his life too. 

_I pray to be only yours_

_I know now,  you're my only hope_

     He almost laughed at his own naïve-ness. He knew his father, and therefore knew that he could not ever have Ginny. He felt absolutely feeble and powerless. Which was what he was... no, he wouldn't let himself think the situation hopeless yet. Sure, it was bleak, but Ginny had shown him a ray of hope. He wouldn't give it up yet. His life was in her hands, whether she knew it or not. 

_I give you my destiny_

_I'm giving you all of me_

     He was a bit afraid, to have lost control once again. There was only one other person to whom he had lost control, and he didn't want a repeat of that. Lucius Malfoy, though, was a cold, cruel imitation of a human, and therefore couldn't really count as a person. Yet he couldn't shake off the sort of dread that shivered up his spine and implanted itself in the furthest reaches of his brain.

     She held his future. She had no idea. She held everything he ever was or ever would be. He didn't know how to control it. All he knew was that he was entrusting her with his safety, his sanity, everything. And if she threw that all away... well, all he'd be was an empty shell, another mindless minion of the power-hungry obsessive Dark Lord. He didn't want that. He couldn't get that way- she was to be his savior. Damn her, how did she get to be so close to him? How did she get to be the golden angel that would save him? She didn't even know him...

     He was powerless against his own father. He sneered bitterly at the thought. He belonged to his father. Yet he was willing to lose control once again if she was the one who could save him. He would let her possess him because he knew she couldn't do any wrong to him, even though he'd been a jerk towards her. She wasn't that kind of person. 

_I want your symphony, singing in all that I am_

     Damn him, he wanted her. He slammed his fist down onto the hard polished wood surface that gleamed like the Snitch during a rainy game. Yeah it hit him. He could see it clearly. He wanted her to be known as his. He wanted her to love him, wanted her to love him and adore him and stand up for all he wanted to be.

     He could still remember the first time he'd seen her- Diagon Alley. In Flourish and Blotts, he'd just found that the littlest Weasley had a temper and also had a resolute heart- once she was set on something, there was no way to get her off of it. She had the guts to stand up to him. He wondered if she also wanted to stand for him. For everything he was, for everything no one else wanted to see. No one else had cared to know. Only she did. She was the only one who cared about him that deeply. 

_At the top of my lungs_

_I'm giving it back...._

     He smiled wryly. He could see it now, in his brain. He was handing her his heart, his soul, his entire being. He hoped she knew what she was doing. He hoped he knew what he was doing. He really wanted her to want him. To love him. He was desperately helpless and he didn't want to entrust someone else with his life again. But he knew he could trust her. Somehow, he knew that she could and would do the right thing with his heart.

     Still, he had some deep mistrust for everyone ever since he'd been handled and sculpted to his father's immense delight and purpose. He knew he was taking the risk with her. He didn't mind as much, but there was still a rebellion stirring deep within him. Why couldn't he control his life? It was his! Not someone else's toy to play with. Did she realize that?

     Damnit, he was in lov- no, goddamnit he was NOT in love. He wouldn't say it. But he didn't know how else to explain the strange warm feeling that took the place of his... his organ which would bring blood to the rest of the body. He wanted to show her how thankful he was that she was willing to do this, that she had been willing to know him. He would give it his all to show her how he felt. 

_So I lay my head back down_

     He let his head finally collapse and lay to rest between his folded arms, to the side. He felt like he was simply giving up; exactly what he thought he should do. In a way, he felt helpless and hopeless and worse off than before. But on the other hand, he was freed from thinking. He had given over the responsibility to her. She now held his potential for something great.

     He smirked, thinking how ironic it was. He glanced down at his quality Tim Ticker watch which showed he'd been in the room for about 1/2 an hour, contemplating it. She had no idea of how much she affected him by trying to get to know him. 

_And I lift my hands and pray to be only yours_

_I pray to be only yours_

_I pray to be only yours_

_I know now, you're my only hope..._

     Draco lifted himself up out of the chair tiredly and went from the room, locking the door behind him. Inside, the only thing burning was a green-streaked silver candle which held a bright red flame, burning brighter than ever. He was off to find Ginny Weasley. He went to go reclaim himself and the person he wanted to be. It would begin tonight. He would be freed of all strings attaching him to a person he didn't want to be. It was the beginning of his life, all over again, this time better than ever. He hoped. 

**MORE A/N**: So tell me honestly what you think! You know you want to... just click that submit button right down there... please? ^.^ Thank you for reading!

~ TM 


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